Herein she reflects the minds of her
creators, the priests and common people, whose ideal woman contents
herself with the duties of motherhood. I doubt whether an
Athene-Madonna, an intellectual goddess, could ever have been evolved;
their attitude towards gods in general is too childlike and positive.
South Italians, famous for abstractions in philosophy, cannot endure
them in religion. Unlike ourselves, they do not desire to learn anything
from their deities or to argue about them. They only wish to love and be
loved in return, reserving to themselves the right to punish them, when
they deserve it. Countless cases are on record where (pictures or
statues of) Madonnas and saints have been thrown into a ditch for not
doing what they were told, or for not keeping their share of a bargain.
During the Vesuvius eruption of 1906 a good number were subjected to
this "punishment," because they neglected to protect their worshippers
from the calamity according to contract (so many candles and festivals =
so much protection).
For the same reason the adult Jesus - the teacher, the God - is
practically unknown. He is too remote from themselves and the ordinary
activities of their daily lives; he is not married, like his mother; he
has no trade, like his father (Mark calls him a carpenter); moreover,
the maxims of the Sermon on the Mount are so repugnant to the South
Italian as to be almost incomprehensible. In effigy, this period of
Christ's life is portrayed most frequently in the primitive monuments of
the catacombs, erected when tradition was purer.
Three tangibly-human aspects of Christ's life figure here: the
bambino-cult, which not only appeals to the people's love of babyhood
but also carries on the old traditions of the Lar Familiaris and of
Horus; next, the youthful Jesus, beloved of local female mystics; and
lastly the Crucified - that grim and gloomy image of suffering which was
imported, or at least furiously fostered, by the Spaniards.
The engulfing of the saints by the Mother of God is due also to
political reasons. The Vatican, once centralized in its policy, began to
be disquieted by the persistent survival of Byzantinism (Greek cults and
language lingered up to the twelfth century); with the Tacitean odium
fratrum she exercised more severity towards the sister-faith than
towards actual paganism. [Footnote: Greek and Egyptian anchorites were
established in south Italy by the fourth century. But paganism was still
flourishing, locally, in the sixth. There is some evidence that
Christians used to take part in pagan festivals.]
The Madonna was a fit instrument for sweeping away the particularist
tendencies of the past; she attacked relic-worship and other outworn
superstitions; like a benignant whirlwind she careered over the land,
and these now enigmatical shapes and customs fell faster than leaves of
Vallombrosa. No sanctuary or cave so remote that she did not endeavour
to expel its male saint - its old presiding genius, whether Byzantine or
Roman. But saints have tough lives, and do not yield without a struggle;
they fought for their time-honoured privileges like the "daemons" they
were, and sometimes came off victorious. Those sanctuaries that proved
too strong to be taken by storm were sapped by an artful and determined
siege. The combat goes on to this day. This is what is happening to the
thrice-deposed and still triumphant Saint Januarius, who is hard pressed
by sheer force of numbers. Like those phagocytes which congregate from
all sides to assail some weakened cell in the body physical, even so
Madonna-cults - in frenzied competition with each other - cluster thickest
round some imperilled venerable of ancient lineage, bent on his
destruction. The Madonna dell' Arco, del Soccorso, and at least fifty
others (not forgetting the newly-invented Madonna di Pompei) - they have
all established themselves in the particular domain of St. Januarius;
they are all undermining his reputation, and claiming to possess his
special gifts. [Footnote: He is known to have quelled an outbreak of
Vesuvius in the fifth century, though his earliest church, I believe,
only dates from the ninth. His blood, famous for liquefaction, is not
mentioned till 1337.]
Early monastic movements of the Roman Church also played their part in
obliterating old religious landmarks. Settling down in some remote place
with the Madonna as their leader or as their "second Mother," these
companies of holy men soon acquired such temporal and spiritual
influence as enabled them successfully to oppose their divinity to the
local saint, whose once bright glories began to pale before her
effulgence. Their labours in favour of the Mother of God were part of
that work of consolidating Papal power which was afterwards carried on
by the Jesuits.
Perhaps what chiefly accounts for the spread of Madonna-worship is the
human craving for novelty. You can invent most easily where no fixed
legends are established. Now the saints have fixed legendary attributes
and histories, and as culture advances it becomes increasingly difficult
to manufacture new saints with fresh and original characters and yet
passable pedigrees (the experiment is tried, now and again); while the
old saints have been exploited and are now inefficient - worn out, like
old toys. Madonna, on the other hand, can subdivide with the ease of an
amoeba, and yet never lose her identity or credibility; moreover, thanks
to her divine character, anything can be accredited to her - anything
good, however wonderful; lastly, the traditions concerning her are so
conveniently vague that they actually foster the mythopoetic faculty.
Hence her success. Again: the man-saints were separatists; they fought
for their own towns against African intruders, and in those frequent and
bloody inter-communal battles which are a feature of Italian
medievalism. Nowadays it is hardly proper that neighbouring townsmen,
aided and abetted by their respective saints, should sally forth to cut
each others' throats.
